


The Ways of Combat

by navaan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Attraction, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, POV Female Character, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 17:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: T’Challa’s head of security frowns and tells her: “Move or you will be moved.”





	The Ways of Combat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trobadora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/gifts).



The first time they meet each other face to face, Natasha’s blocking T’Challa’s way to his car and his head of security takes instant offense. Natasha gets it. It’s not enough that these people and their arrogance have caused Wakandan lives, no they have caused the death of their king. The animosity is understandable -- and in part why Natasha is here.

She’s been trying to keep things from escalating -- while Steve’s acting out of turn and following his own counsel, while Tony’s battling his own demons and trying to navigate the murky waters of what the security council and Ross and who knows who else wants from them, while T’Challa is looking for justice on his own terms. Working between a rock and a hard place isn’t new to the Back Widow.

Neither are threats.

T’Challa’s head of security frowns and tells her: “Move or you will be moved.”

Natasha refrains from smiling. The situation’s too dire to be made light of. But the woman facing her looks like a formidable opponent - and cuts quite the figure in the sleek black dress. It’s a shame really that there’s no time for a test of wills and power when the integrity of Natasha’s team and family is at stake.

* * *

The second time they meet, Natasha’s in trouble.

She met up with Steve and the rest of the “fugitives” in Beirut. But after they’d stopped a weapon trade going down, they’d split to shake the other pursuers they’d acquired. Ross seems to have found operatives willing to take n Captain America and friends, likely going behind Tony’s back because so far the remaining Avengers have given them such a deliberate wide berth that it can only be by design.

The highly trained mercenaries though have no moral obligation to bring them in alive.

And there are many of them.

In a shootout, her shoulder is grazed, and she escapes by a hair’s breadth, crashing through the window of her hotel, shards cutting her face. She’s a professional. She takes out two of her pursuers before she’s running across rooftops as if she isn’t hurt. 

She manages to vanish in a sea of people in a crowded street. When a car pulls up nearby, she fully expects to be shot at. 

Instead, she’s graced with the sight of a familiar face -- not friendly exactly, but not threatening this time. “What are you waiting for,” the woman says from the front passenger door, that she has pushed open. “Get in, or I’ll come to collect you.”

Natasha gets in.

“Why are you here?”

“Coincidence,” the woman says roughly.

“Thank you anyway,” Natasha says graciously and looks her over. “It’s a shame we're not in the right wardrobe for a night out on the town.”

That earns her a laugh full of the kind of amusement only people like them understand, a beautiful sound over the engine’s noise as the car speeds away towards safety.

* * *

Ayo introduces herself as shortly and matter-of-factly as she does anything. She patches up Natasha’s shoulder, then lets a finger catch one of her red locks. “I’m surprised you haven’t done something about this yet.”

“I’m not usually sentimental,” Natasha agrees. 

Truth is, she had hoped she would be able to get Steve and Tony to talk and patch this over. But Steve’s as mule-headed as Stark on a good day.

She may have to admit she’s in this for the long-haul.

“Thank you anyway.”

Ayo shrugs. “You are friends of Wakanda.”

Looking at her sideways, her clever fingers busy with the bandages, Ayo seems like a deceptively beautiful distraction, the kind that Natasha would like to know better. The smoldering look she receives when Ayo notices she’s being watched hint at mutual attraction.

“Visit us in Wanda. You could benefit from some training, Black Widow.”

“You wish,” Natasha shoots back amiably and regrets seeing the other woman get ready to depart.

Perhaps another time in Wakanda.

* * *

“You wanted to teach me some lessons,” Natasha says. She has been watching the exercises of the Dora Milaje for the last couple of minutes. 

“Join us,” Ayo invites, and General Okoye nods.

For the first time, they’re meeting each other in actual combat. It’s the kind of excitement Natasha favours when attraction mingles with danger and her blood’s pumping through her veins as she parries and attacks, not giving an inch to the formidable fighter that is this woman she’s been thinking of too many times. 

Natasha nearly falls for a feint, but catches herself and turns it into an attack of her own, grabbing Ayo’s staff and lurching herself forward with the new moment. Ayo goes to one knee. They end up with staffs millimeters from each other’s throats.

The smile it earns her is more beautiful than anything she’s seen in the last months.

Ayo holds out a hand to help her up and nods. “Again.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Natasha jokes, not hiding her excitement.

This is the kind of dance she likes.

And if the fire in Ayo’s dark eyes is anything to go by then the sparks are flying for both of them.

* * *

The sex that follows is incredible. It’s charged and hot; it’s a competition as much as it is a coalescence of bodies and minds. Two people who have felt attraction from the start are finally giving in to what they _want_ without giving up control.

Pushing and shoving, using all the tricks in the book, Natasha pushes Ayo down on the mattress in the way she had tried to hold her on the floor. This time she can enjoy it though, ride the wave of pleasure that spikes when she slides down Ayo’s body in just the right way to stroke her arousal.

With equal cunning and strength, Ayo flips them around, gasping. She presses Natasha’s hands down beside her hard. Natasha’s instinct says to fight back, but a leg comes up between her own, teasing, giving her more of what she wants, promising more if she’s willing to give something back for it.

Ayo is grinning. “I quite like this exercise,” she whispers.

Natasha knows this game - starts moving, to her hips and sighs in just the sweetest way. There’s more than one way to win a fight.

“Oh,” Ayo praises, “you are smart.”

And finally, her warrior gives in to her with a moan, meeting her in the sweet armistice of equals.


End file.
